Post by Juliette Deveraux on Dec 9, 2017 18:32:14 GMT -5
The last few days and nights were akin to a nightmare, spent fleeing and hiding from her uncle's henchmen until it was deemed safe for them to leave the city. No sooner had Tristan and Juliette slipped out of Bordelaix then the gates were secured by soldiers wearing the Sandoval insignia, of all things. She'd been too horrified and frightened to truly take notice of them initially; only once they departed the city did Sir William, the knight who Tristan served as squire, advise them that where Benoit had the palace secured and the gates locked, the city seemed to be under the control of the Sandovals.
There was nothing to be done for it, Juliette knew. The odds were long that her elder sisters were still alive, much to her very real grief. Benoit was far too thorough to chance a survivor to raise an army and retake control. Scarcely able to believe how far he went in his desire for power, she did not have time to mourn those lost to her. Those in Vasile were on the way home, and if they were not intercepted, made aware of what happened in Bordelaix, they would be walking straight into a trap.
She'd pled with Tristan to situate a scout off the highway to keep watch for her cousins, the better to prevent further disaster from devastating the Deveraux family. The knight reluctantly agreed, setting one of the guards to the duty with a sealed letter that Juliette penned to them, asking them to come to the lakeside estate on a matter of grave urgency. That way, she'd reasoned, they understood it was not a trap and were more likely to indulge her.
Feeling anxious as the hours ticked by without their arrival, Juliette paced the sun-flooded hall and fidgeted. She feared (perhaps irrationally) that Benoit had circumvented their efforts and struck at them before they reached the highway, else they would surely be here by now.
Where were they?
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Tristan Deschênes, Emile Deveraux, Clara Delamara, Isobel Cameron